


Deconstructing The Standard

by transfixme_quite



Series: Deconstructing The Standard [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-10 12:40:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transfixme_quite/pseuds/transfixme_quite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock wants to know what is so great about sex. Spoilers: He has a personal agenda.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deconstructing The Standard

John strolled through the front door carrying groceries, slightly out of breath from the phantom pain in his leg. Sherlock sat unmoving, still as artwork, in front of John’s laptop, fingers steepled and clearly deep in thought. John ended his laboured breathing with a huff of annoyance, having long since given up complaining about Sherlock “confiscating” his personal property.

“What is the human preoccupation with sex?” Sherlock asked suddenly, startling John.

“Sorry, what?”

“Sex. Aside from the obvious.”

“Um. It’s fun? Makes you feel good, distraction from life, gives you a much needed release.”

“You go through hell, though, trying to get it. Is it really worth it? Days, sometimes weeks, of pandering and coercion for a few minutes of heavy breathing, heart racing, pulsing nether regions. It seems like such a big hassle for such little return. So I ask again, what is the point?”

“Human contact? Some of us enjoy being around each other.” John nearly shook his head, and instead turned around to attend to the groceries.

“You’re around ‘people’ every day.” Sherlock said with the tiniest hint of disgust.

“No, Sherlock, this isn’t something I’d expect you’d understand: the simplest of human nature, instinct, desire, compulsion. Sex is something humans enjoy, usually quite regularly, to keep themselves sane.”

“It isn’t human, it’s animalistic. This exigency you’re describing sounds like addiction, a commodity I know far too well about, and if you’re putting sex on that level, then it should be something one can live without, something humans indulge in because they can’t control the ‘instincts’ that haven’t yet evolved out of them.”

“Well of course, we can live without it, but what fun would that be… No… No, that’s not what it’s like at all. It’s… It’s sharing your fancy, your appreciation for someone else, showing them how you feel about them… Why are you even pondering this right now? What were you looking at on my laptop?” John crossed his arms, now facing Sherlock, completely confused by the direction this was going.

“When was the last time you had sex, John?” Sherlock asked, facing John finally as well. The look on his face as he surveyed John’s stance, the wear of his clothes, and level of current personal hygiene meant he already had his answer, but he’d asked anyway, probably for a reason. His eyes met with John’s as he awaited the answer he already knew. John cleared his throat and looked around uncomfortably before opening his mouth.

“You know I was out last night.” John said indignantly. Sherlock smirked.

“Your being ‘out’ isn’t relevant. You go out a lot, but don’t always come back with freshly washed yet disheveled hair, morning stubble and a slight limp, plus your clothes, the same clothes from yesterday, are wrinkled in a way that tells me they spent the night in a pile on the floor as opposed to on your body as you slept. And the groceries were a distraction, for me I gather, seeing as how I picked up enough food last week to last us until next.”

“You don’t eat, which is another instinct you ignore, another necessity to human life, so ‘enough’ food for you is not enough for your flatmate.”

“Eating is dull. It gets in the way of more important things, and I do quite fine without it, as I do without sex. So please, if you don’t mind, since you seem to be all about indulgences today, indulge my own curiosities.”

“Indulge mine first.” John said, as he made his way over to sit down. He leaned back in his chair and got comfortable. “Haven’t you ever gotten off? With someone else, with yourself, accidentally, anything at all? No, let’s start simpler. Haven’t you ever found someone attractive?”

“I hardly see how this is relevant to answering my own question, but yes, I have ‘gotten off’, and yes I have the ability to tell whether or not someone is attractive. That part of it is simple science. The more symmetrical the face, the more attractive it is.”

“You’ve masturbated then.”

“Naturally, of course.”

“Shocking, that was too easy to get out of you.”

“As a teenager, your body goes through changes you can’t control, and walking around with an erection wasn’t really something I looked forward to. I discovered I could be rid of it with a few strokes, conveniently. And before you ask, it is primarily a bodily function to me, much like any other function I’m sure you’d turn your head away upon my mentioning.”

“And being attracted to anyone?”

“There’s a difference between knowing someone is attractive and being attracted to them. It’s entirely pointless to delight in the latter because it not only leads to disappointment, it skews the thought process, and distracts you from more important things.”

“But Sherlock… That’s what it’s supposed to do, that’s what attraction is for… And don’t think I didn’t notice your non-answer.” John said, quite clearly amused with the conversation, and himself. Sherlock rolled his eyes slightly and turned his head away, inhaling sharply.

“It’s difficult for me to oblige in attraction because so many people become instantly unattractive when they open their mouths and prove how utterly stupid they are, so I don’t bother even with the first thought at all. Pointless, as I’ve said.” Sherlock finally said, looking back at John.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” John leaned forward a bit, curiosity filling his eyes as he studied Sherlock. “So you are capable of this simplest of human behavior.”

“Of course, I’m capable, I’ve just decided to delete the function from my routine.” Sherlock shoved some paper on the desk for emphasis, then looked away again, in slight frustration.

“So, hypothetically, if someone were to not be stupid-“

“That’s highly unlikely.” Sherlock interrupted.

“Fine, if they were to keep quiet-“

“I’d quite correctly assume they were hiding something and most likely figure out what, in a matter of moments, which would lead to the ever so shocking discovery of their being a moron.”

“Sherlock! Work with me here. Hypothetically, let’s say you met someone who wasn’t stupid. Since you’re capable, would you eventually remember how to be attracted?”

“I’d say know a few people who fall into the category of ‘not stupid’ but have given me many other reasons to not open up that unused part of myself for any given reason.”

“…Who?” John’s curiosity was getting the better of him.

“That’s completely irrelevant, wouldn’t you say? There’s rarely a good reason.”

“There has to be. Look… Look at it… Alright. What happens when you get a new, interesting case?” John asked. Sherlock cocked his head slightly, squinting his eyes.

“I envelop myself in it, picking apart every piece of evidence and witness accounts that I can, finding and exploring areas other people never bothered to look and discovering very important missing clues, until I discover the solution.”

“And how does it feel in the moment you solve the puzzle?”

“Invigorating.” Sherlock answered in a low voice and a sly smile. John huffed a laugh and pointed.

“But Sherlock, how long can that ‘invigorating’ feeling last? It’s so much effort for such little return.” John said, mocking Sherlock’s earlier words. Sherlock’s mouth hung open for a moment before protesting.

“No, absolutely not, you cannot compare the two.”

“I most certainly can. I explore, I find new things other people haven’t, I solve the puzzle. The puzzle of course being finding out what makes them tick, how to bring the other person to orgasm. Solving puzzles is sex for your twisted mind. I’m getting why Donovan said you get off on it now.”

“Don’t bring her insolence into this. She’d be more than pleased to be having this conversation with you, I’m sure.” Sherlock turned around in his chair so his back was facing John, slamming the laptop shut almost too hard.

“Why do you two hate each other so much, Sherlock?” John asked after a moment. Sherlock waved the back of his hand at John dismissing his question.

“It’s completely irrelevant.”

“You can’t decide what is or isn’t relevant at your convenience.”

“If you must know, she wasn’t too keen on my telling her how pathetic and transparent she was when she tried to chat me up several years ago. She’s been quite sore ever since.”

“…You might have done to just say no.” John said quietly.

“Not quite always the paramount method you seem to think it is.” Sherlock dropped his head and ran his fingers through his hair.

“So. You’ve really never…” John was hesitant, but it was Sherlock who started the conversation, after all. Sherlock sighed at his tentative approach.

“I have been intimate, yes. I once stopped in the middle because I was frustrated, irritated, and…” Sherlock stopped and faced John again. “My mind was elsewhere.”

“Well, we’re all awkward our first time. Why didn’t you just keep exploring? Didn’t you find …them attractive, whoever they were?”

“Not particularly. She was the daughter of the dean at the university, and he was caught up in some illicit affairs which were bringing great grief upon several well-to-do families, and I was investigating. I knew if I got involved with her, it’d be the fastest way into his home without breaking in. I got the information I needed, but not before being let in late at night after he and his wife had gone to bed. Obviously, she wasn’t going to just let me immediately wander, so, I had to fumble around with her for a bit. It was actually quite humiliating, but that wasn’t too much of a concern, since there was no audience.”

“Wow. Apparently there are still things you can do to shock me. That’s quite a heartless thing to do to the poor girl!”

“But according to your line of thought, it makes perfect sense!” Sherlock began, injecting his tone full of sarcasm. “Working a case is like sex to me, or so you say, so naturally if I were to date someone, it would be to investigate something and solve a crime. Needless to say, I found exactly what I needed that night to incriminate the dean and had him turned in the next day. I never saw the girl again. I suppose that’s akin to a one night stand, isn’t it?” Sherlock’s stare pierced into John’s, his lips pressed tightly together, challengingly. “You might want to pick up your jaw now, John.”

“I…” John started, obviously trying to gather his thoughts. “I want to know about anyone in your life you were attracted to that you were involved with. Outside of a case. There had to be someone. There had to be.”

“Please tell me why you’re so certain ‘there had to be someone’.” Sherlock leaned forward, waiting.

“You’re always telling me to observe, and what I’m observing is classic behavior of pulling away because you’ve been hurt. That’s how I know there was someone. All the clues bring me to this. You say you are attracted to people, but you choose not to be because it’s a waste of time and leads to disappointment. Only prior experience would give you that knowledge.”

Sherlock stared at John a bit longer, not moving, not speaking. His eyes moved around speedily, watching John’s expression change, watching his breathing pattern fluctuate. John was heading down a complicated road. Finally, Sherlock broke the silence. “Good. What else?”

“Uh, what else? Nothing. That’s it.”

“Are you sure?” Sherlock said.

“No, of course not.” John exclaimed, and Sherlock laughed in haughty amusement. He carefully watched John again, considering his next statement. This was John. John often liked to put on an air of judgment, but at the end of the day, he stayed where he was, with Sherlock, and Sherlock knew above all else this meant he was not only trustworthy, but understanding.

It often irritated Sherlock, as he’d had to watch this attribute be the reason John got himself into as much romantic trouble as he did, but it was also one of the many reasons Sherlock let John deeper into his life than he’d ever let anyone before. Perfectly logical. You can’t have a partner you can’t trust, Sherlock had many times told himself. John’s fingers tapped on the armrest.

_Impatience? No, he’d be heaving sighs if he were losing his patience. He’s uncomfortable. This might be the time to lock this conversation away_ , Sherlock thought. “Sherlock.” John interrupted his train of thought and he looked up and locked eyes with John, and exhaled.

“There was… Victor.” Sherlock said, very quietly.

“Victor?” John repeated curiously, sitting forward.

“Friend from uni. Well, I say friend…” Sherlock muttered, looking away.

“Boyfriend?” John prodded. Sherlock waved his hand at John.

“No no, nothing like that.” Sherlock said far too abruptly, then stood up and paced. “Victor Trevor, a very interesting man. Studied criminology and dance. He always argued that the quickest way out of a dangerous situation was an arabesque and botafogo. Sadly, I never got to see him put that into action. He knew about my involvement with the dean’s daughter, Cate, and why. I thought I could trust him. He, however had other things to concern himself with and was unable to assist me in my endeavors. Tangled web, he had…”

Sherlock continued pacing, but his words trailed off as if he’d gotten lost in his own memories. John watched Sherlock stalk back and forth in the small area between them. Sherlock raised his hands in the air a bit, mouthed something, but didn’t actually speak, then smiled to himself. “That’s an entirely different story, though. I spent some time with him at his father’s place during the summer after our first year. Big place, many maids and various workers doing things they shouldn’t. We’d stay up late drinking, and he’d quiz me about the things I’d observed throughout the day. You know better than anyone, I don’t much enjoy company, but …he was an exception. Just intriguing enough to always keep me interested.” Sherlock stopped pacing, stole a quick glance at John, looked down and smiled again. John cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.

“Right.” John said to fill the silence.

“One night, Victor thought he’d point out how much Cate really fancied me. I told him I wasn’t interested in her. He suggested I take advantage of the situation regardless. I said nothing. All I was focused on was finding the copies of the blackmail letters the dean had sent out. He normally took my silence for a change of subject. This time, he pushed it.

“We’d had too much scotch. Lovely twenty-year-old scotch his father had locked away, scotch we weren’t supposed to touch, but did anyway. Bottle mostly gone. Victor decided sitting across from me was no longer acceptable and sat next to me. He had the most thrilling green eyes. Flickered with vibrancy by the light of the fireplace. Full lips, which he’d licked before he slid up to my side. Shimmering, dark blond hair that fell over his left eye almost too perfectly, like he’d spent all night angling it just so; but he hadn’t because that was just how it was. I’d seen it do that a hundred times. At that proximity, I had not much choice but to look at him, see him. Realize that he wasn’t just attractive, like I’d always been aware of, but that I was attracted to him. I knew this was only going to go wrong, every kind of wrong that it could have gone, but the alcohol gave me recourse to ignore my instincts.”

John tilted his head forward curiously, and quietly watched Sherlock. He didn’t ever talk about his past this way, and John seemed to not want to break Sherlock’s train of thought.

“He asked me how I could see someone I had no interest in. He already knew the answer so I still said nothing. He asked what I thought about when I kissed her. I had only given her quite chaste kisses at that point, and I had no need to think of anything at all when I did. I was going to answer him, when he pressed his lips to mine. I knew he was going to do it, could tell from even before he sat next to me. But the sensation… You always think you know what most things feel like. Mostly, you’re right. But I did not know what this would feel like. Two day old stubble chafing my skin, soft lips on mine, fingers on my neck. I didn’t close my eyes. He was still holding his scotch in the other hand.

“Yes, John. I do understand the nature of attraction, and how someone’s skin against your own feels like nothing else matters in the world, and how if they touch you just right, you might well do anything they say in that moment. I unfortunately also know what it’s like to be walked in on in the morning when you’re wrapped around someone, with nothing covering you but a sheet, and having that person shove you off and try to convince their father how drunk they were and that they remember nothing. I know what it’s like to look that person in the eyes and know they’re lying, but there’s nothing you can do or say so you just gather your things and leave. This is how I know sex and attraction are wastes of time, and I just don’t understand how you’d want to put yourself through that constantly. Sex is unimportant in the grand scheme of life.” Sherlock finally sat down again across from John.

“Sherlock… I…”

“No. Let me finish. I’ve asked you, because I want to know what you feel is important in a relationship. Absolutely and unequivocally.”

“Sherlock…” John was at a loss for words.

“Please.” Sherlock spoke softly, and kept his eyes on John, though not quite wanting to.

“Alright. Trust.” John nodded to himself, as if affirming his statement. “Honesty. Companionship. That feeling of just being comfortable.”

Sherlock inhaled sharply, placing his fingers to his lips. “Would you say you trusted me?”

“That’s hard to say Sherlock, you’ve put me in a lot of dangerous situations where I’ve almost died… You’ve thrown me to the dogs, almost literally, you know.” John laughed heartily.

“It was an experiment!” Sherlock exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

“Alright, how about the time me and my date were almost killed by a Chinese smuggler ring, or when I had Semtex strapped to my chest, or when-“

“Yes, alright! But we were in it together, John! I came and got you out of those situations, and aside from that, our first night together I warned you there was a possibility of danger, and you came anyway. Not only that, but you’ve stayed with me since and after these events. Do you honestly think I would ever do anything to harm you myself?”

“You drugged my coffee.”

“That again, John, there was nothing in the sugar!”

“But you thought there was. And you threw me into an empty room to be chased by a monster-“

“A monster that wasn’t there, whose sound I was controlling… Don’t you see? I would never… never hurt you. And if someone else did, I’d be right there to stop them.”

John and Sherlock were quiet for a few moments. Sherlock refused to look at John, and John refused to look anywhere else. “Yeah.” John finally said. “Cheers, alright? I trust you. You do lie to me though, but I’m still here. And yes, it’s been dangerous, but you did warn me, and the danger has been exhilarating. Fills the void in my life.”

Sherlock looked up at John, who was now smiling at him. “Does it?” Sherlock asked.

“Certainly. Definitely.” John nodded again, this time affirming his statement to Sherlock.

“Why then do you keep going out and looking for something more?”

“Sorry?” John asked, confused again.

“If this-” Sherlock gestured around him, “-fills the void in your life, why do you need more than this? Why do you need to date and have sex?”

John stared at Sherlock with a furrowed brow and sat back in his seat. He looked to his side and began tapping his fingers again. Sherlock could tell John was finally putting the last pieces of the puzzle together, and internally struggling with himself over where these last few pieces went. Sherlock cleared his throat and suddenly wished he could take everything he said back.

“Because I’m a man, that’s what I do…” John answered.

“Am I not a man because I don’t?”

“You’re… You’re just Sherlock. I’ve never thought of you as anything but Sherlock, and you’ve never shown that you even had a side of you that would think about this kind of thing. Except maybe when Irene Adler was around…” John peppered her name with bitterness, and Sherlock was fast to notice.

“She always bothered you. Why?”

“Because she was messing with you, stringing you along in all the worst ways, but there was nothing I could do to convince you of that.” John huffed.

“I know what she is.” Sherlock said, and sat up tall. “I know what she did. There was more to her than everyone, myself included, gave her credit for.”

“And you stick up for her. After everything.”

“I respect her.”

“And what about me?” John’s voice got louder. Sherlock smirked.

“The difference between you and her is I respect her, but I don’t expect anyone to understand why, nor do I care. However, I believe everyone should respect you. You’re honourable, kind, intelligent, more than most people anyway, selfless, willing to die for your friends. People should know this about you. I want everyone to know what kind of person it took to make someone like me think before I act. You’re my partner and my friend. You stimulate my brain in ways it couldn’t have been before I met you. You don’t just bring logic to the table. You bring a conscience. I may seem annoyed by it, well nearly all of the time, but I need it. I need you.”

“Sherlock, I’m not going anywhere.” John said quietly, leaning forward.

“I know. Except you do, every time you go on a date and stay the night with another boring woman. Is sex really something you need that badly? Could you live without it?”

“Of course I could, I… What are you asking me?” John gulped nervously, and the silence filled the air like fog.

“What happens if you meet a nice girl, fall in love, want to marry her? You leave Baker Street. You leave the excitement, the danger. You leave me. Is that what you really want, John? When we’re out solving a case, are you thinking about the moment you get to leave this life and go off and lead a boring and predictable one with a garden and a beautiful wife, two perfect children and a plasma telly, driving them to daycare in your SUV, before going to your boring job where you treat people for the flu?”

“Being very leading there, Sherlock, but no. In a perfect world, yes I’d like a wife and kids and a normal job. But I’ve lived this life with you, and I can’t go back. It’d take something drastic to make me go seek out a life like that, and if all I’ve been through with you hasn’t counted as drastic, then I hardly think anything will. I can’t go back to normal, not now, not ever. As much as my instincts want it, I’ll always crave this more.”

“You make me sound like an addiction now.” Sherlock laughed quietly. John laughed along with him.

“Almost, yeah.”

“So. Then, what’s the point of sex?”

“I don’t know anymore, Sherlock, you’ve beaten it out of me.” John laughed in defeat and slapped his legs. “I thought for sure after telling me about this Victor person, you could understand why sex is a part of human development. I suppose not.”

“That was valid time I could have been using more constructively, and all it did was serve to give him a reason to try to make me look foolish. If there’s one thing I’m not, it’s a fool.”

“I’m pretty sure he screwed himself over more than he did you. If he lost you after that, he lost a huge and strange force in his life, and I can promise you, he misses it… -Misses you.”

“Like you would?”

“Yes.”

“But you’re staying here.”

“I’m staying here, at Baker Street, with you. As all my previous girlfriends have pointed out, I’ve made you my priority. I don’t intend to change that. I suppose if it’ll ease your mind, I’ll slow down on the dating thing for a bit. I can’t say I’ve been looking for anything but a bit of fun, but as you’ve so graciously pointed out, you provide me with more than enough.”

Sherlock smiled and exhaled a deep sigh he hadn’t realized he was holding on to. He stood up and walked over to John, standing right in front of him, still smiling. ”Good. Good. Thank you. You’re not just anyone. I trust you. You’re honest with me even when no one else is. I feel comfortable with you. And I always want you here with me. So, I ask you again. Could you live without sex?”

The puzzle pieces finally matched up, and Sherlock could see John’s brain light up, though the confusion on his face only seemed to grow.

“Are you asking me to be… your…” John couldn’t finish the sentence.

“I’m asking you to be to me what you already are, but to stop pretending you want something else, when all you want is standing right before you.”

“You know I’m not gay, Sherlock.”

“Which is why I asked if you could live without sex. Sex holds no interest for me, and you’re not attracted to men, yet here we are, absolutely committed to one another. Don’t you see?”

“I really don’t understand how you’re managing to make this sound sensible.”

“John, I remember once you told me ‘it’s all fine.’ This is part of ‘all’. I am opening up to you.”

“But what if something changes, what if you suddenly want more, or decide you find me attractive? What happens then?”

“This sounds more like fear that you’ll change or want more. I’ve done quite well without sex as you know. I’ve been aware of your attractiveness since the moment we met, but attraction isn’t important. What we’ve developed together, that’s the key to it all. This partnership, the way you know how to deal with me in all my oddest moments. Even when you think you can’t or aren’t, you do and are.”

“You find me attractive?”

“Of course. Simple science.” Sherlock smiled. ”Will you leave me now? Or do you still feel safe here with me?”

“I feel as safe as one can feel with Sherlock Holmes.” John joked. “If I did change my mind… By some fluke… Would you change yours?”

“Skirting around again, John. But, I don’t think it’s an issue we need concern ourselves with just yet. Though it’s very interesting it’s already crossed your mind.” Sherlock started pacing again. “I need a case.”

“Wait, so that’s it? You put me through this emotional spin and just turn it off like that? Where do we go from here?” John stood up, leaning on one leg. Sherlock looked back at him and sighed.

“I think we’ve said everything that needs to be said.”

“No, we haven’t!”

“What then, John?”

“I ….don’t know. What just happened?”

“John, I’ve asked you to be my partner, and to not see other people. You’ve agreed. Do you understand the implications?”

“…Yes. Yes, I do.”

“People think I don’t understand love. Even you. I understand more than you know.” Sherlock turned toward John and stepped closer. “It’s more than what’s on the surface. It’s knowing that you’d be lost without that person by your side. It’s knowing that even at your worst, they’ll still be there. It’s knowing they’d die for you. And you for them. We need to be focused on what’s coming ahead, and if we have distractions, we will fail. All we need is right here. You and me.” He stroked John’s cheek softly and quickly, then turned away again. “I need a case. Text Lestrade. My phone is in my pocket.”

John cleared his throat, nodded, and took the phone from Sherlock’s pocket. He sent the text, and walked back to the kitchen to put away the groceries he’d abandoned. “Tea?” John offered.

“Yes, thank you, John.” Sherlock said, then turned sharply to face John. “…Thank you.”

John smiled and put the kettle on.


End file.
